Greed
by Hella Jelena
Summary: The end of Commander Tamulok? A mutated virus causes trouble. Nurse Chapel is acting like a secret agent, and the triumvirate has to face some challenges. (Sequel to "Lust")
1. Chapter 1

**This is Part 6 of the Deadly Sins series which eventually will explain why McCoy and Spock left Starfleet after the five year mission.**

_What happened so far:_

_Doctor McCoy is mind raped on Meriah Five by Delihan, a high official of Meriah. He recovers with the help of Spock and Kirk who find out that the Romulans, foremost Commander Tamulok, have their fingers in it too. Delihan is imprisoned on Meriah for treason. _(Pride)

_The Enterprise answers a distress call, and finds that all Romulans of Tamulok's ship and all Vulcans from the ship that escorted them back to Romulan space, have been infected with a virus that controls their minds. Spock is affected too and under the influence of the virus he attempts to murder McCoy. In the end, everyone is saved and cured from the virus. Tamulok is beamed on board the Enterprise, and T'Plok, a female Vulcan doctor, takes residence in sickbay to help out the understaffed medical crew of the Enterprise. _(Sloth)

_Tamulok escapes with the help of T'Plok, who turns out to be a Romulan spy called Velal. While Tamulok manages to stay on the run, Velal is taken into custody. She admits that Tamulok is a danger not only to the Federation, but also to the Romulan Star Empire and she wants to have him eliminated. However, she seems to be unable to kill him herself. _(Envy)

_Kirk and McCoy beam into the Prolia Prison Complex on Meriah to question Delihan about Tamulok's whereabouts. They find out that all prisoners in that camp are infected with the virus (c.f. _Sloth_) and are telepathically controlled by the free Meriahns outside the prison. When the prisoners start to attack them, they manage to escape with the help of Delihan who later dies in an accident before he can tell them anything about Tamulok. McCoy manages to get an injured Kirk to safety, but cannot escape himself. Meanwhile, Spock has to decide between getting Kirk to a neurosurgeon on Starbase 3 in order to save his life or investing precious time to work out a risky plan to save McCoy. Spock decides to rescue McCoy who is then able to help Kirk. _(Gluttony)

_A security officer calls McCoy to the brig, because Velal is having a fever and behaving like a rabid animal. McCoy finds out she has the Romulan equivalent of Pon Farr. Suddenly the power goes out on the Enterprise and the crew struggles to find out what caused it. It turns out that it is Tamulok who wants to capture Velal who is his wife. Velal is afraid of him and she and McCoy flee into a Jeffries tube. With the help of Kirk, they manage to trap Tamulok who then beams off the ship. McCoy helps Velal with her problem, and she tells them, that Tamulok has a human woman as a wife, and a sixteen year old son on a planet in sector Z6. She suspects they can find him there._ (Lust)

o0o

Greed is an excessive desire to possess wealth, goods, or abstract things of value with the intention to keep it for one's self. Greed is inappropriate expectation. However, greed is applied to a very excessive or rapacious desire and pursuit of wealth, status, and power. (Wikipedia)

**Greed**

His world was made up of a cacophony of sensations. Sensations he couldn't make any sense of. He had no idea where he was, there were blurs of color all around him, mostly green with blotches of brown and yellow, also some blue, but he couldn't make out any shapes. As he tried to move his head, white pain exploded behind is eyes, sharp and blinding. There was also a red pain in his shoulder, emanating into his side, his hand and fingers. Odd, since when did pain have color? He held onto that thought as he concentrated on not throwing up. Clenching his jaws, he heard a pressed hiss of air, and felt a brief triumph as he identified it as his breath, travelling through his flared nostrils. The white flash disappeared and the screaming red faded into a dirty, but manageable brown.

"S'alright, Bones, don't move, just close your eyes," he heard someone say, and he briefly wondered who that guy was and who he was talking to.

The pain retreated somewhere to the background, but he still could feel it lurking, watching him, ready to sink its teeth back into him. He tasted salty sweat on his lips, it was hard to breathe. The air was humid, just like it always was near the lake on a summer night.

He tried to clear his throat, to ease his still strained breathing, when again that all consuming pain latched onto him, filling his vision with garish colors again. There was a noise ... voices, but they sounded muffled, as if he heard them from under water. Maybe that was it? The lake near his parents' house? Had he fallen into it and was he drowning?

No, he could feel air filling his lungs, even if it was not near enough, he was still breathing, or wasn't he? He felt his heart hammering against his ribbcage and in his throat as panic overcame him. He'd been wrong, there was no air! He tried to free himself from something that was clutching him, holding him down, only to be rewarded by that crushing pain again.

"... got to _stop_ moving! You'll only hurt yourself!"

He could make out the words of someone in obvious anger and found he was not under water at all. A person was holding him from behind, his arms around his chest in a vice grip, making his breathing difficult, immobilizing him, totally. Maybe that bastard had even broken some of his ribs, he thought, that would explain the pain.

It suddenly came all back to him in a flash: the biology project about bees, Gemma, the walk around the lake, and Brad King and his gang.

They were doing a number on him right now, cracking his ribs, breaking his nose, giving him a concussion. He would break Brad's fingers while deflecting a blow with his foot, but in the end, they'd all survive. He felt a bit of relief when he found his brain at least partially to be functioning again, although something didn't quite feel right, however, he couldn't possibly say what it was that confused him. And he couldn't _breathe_, dammit.

He clawed at the arms restraining him, and for a second was able to ignore the flaring pain in his shoulder. If that guy didn't losen his grip, he'd suffocate! There was no air, and it was so damned hot that the sweat was soaking through his clothes. To be pressed tightly against someone's chest, didn't help at all.

"Stop! … You're … drowning me!" he shouted as loud as he could, immediately wondering, why he'd chosen _those_ words, he'd just established he wasn't in the water. However, he supposed the general message he wanted to convey would get through anyway. He also knew it didn't matter what he said, that asshole wasn't going to let go of him before he passed out.

He definitely did _not_ expect what followed. The arms around him loosened, just like that. And as he was once again trying to keep himself from throwing up, something cold was gently pressed to the side of his face. It was a wet cloth, he realized, as it slowly wiped the sticky, salty sweat away from his face and lips, and then moved to his neck and shoulder which _hurt_, although he could feel the touches were feathery light, meant to be soothing, and somehow that was enough to make them comforting despite the pain.

He drew small, shaky breaths, ridiculously shallow, but at least they were regular, at least they were _there_. The bully had turned into a lifeguard, a buoy that kept him above water, kept him afloat with infinite gentleness. _Oh, the power of words! All I had to do was ask him to stop._

After a few minutes of listening to his own breaths, he started to take stock of his surroundings once more. He was sitting on something soft, a couch, or a mattress, and was still leaning against the guy who had tried to suffocate him just a minute ago and who was talking in a gentle murmur somewhere to his left ear. Before he could actually focus on the words, he drifted off into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk stopped talking as he felt Bones had drifted off again, and focused his eyes on the woman across the room who was watching them with a mixture of contempt and empathy, phaser in hand and aiming at them.

"It's getting worse," she said, when his eyes met hers.

"The phaser wound doesn't help," he replied, giving her an accusing look, "but it'll work, you'll see."

She averted her eyes. "I didn't approve of that."

"You mean you didn't approve of Tamulok shooting an unarmed, feverish doctor who is risking his life to help the people who hold us hostage?"

"No," she shouted back at him.

"Your husband does a lot you don't approve of, doesn't he?" he asked, giving her a smile.

She stood angrily, taking a step towards Kirk who was sitting on the bed behind McCoy, carefully holding the sleeping or unconscious doctor in his arms. He had been holding him upright against his chest to ease his breathing, and to keep him from hurting himself any further for hours now. His back and arms must hurt from sitting in this one position for too long, she reckoned, but he'd never even grimaced.

As she came to a stop in front of the bed, steaming with anger, her left fist clenched, her right hand tightly gripping the phaser, she noticed the captain was slowly stroking the knuckles of the doctor's hand with his thumb, holding it in a position clutched to his chest that would put no strain on the ugly shoulder wound. It was a simple gesture, but it brought a lump into her throat, around which she could not speak for the fraction of a second. The captain was not a bad guy, she could feel it, however, he was too cocky, to bold, an arrogant son of a bitch. She breathed.

"Tarses. My husband's name is Tarses, as I've told you. He is a Vulcan merchant. I don't know if your Romulan spy even exists, but he is not my husband. You are wrong."

"Tarses, ey? Well, what's in a name?"

She exhaled slowly. "Fvillhail Three is far away from Earth. We struggle, Captain. Life is difficult, but we chose to live here, because we seek simplicity and … independence. We eat what we grow, we help our neighbours, and expect help from them. We govern ourselves, we don't have and don't want much contact with the Federation. What would a spy want from us?"

Kirk sighed, he had expected Tamulok's wife to be different, not so skeptical towards them, not so faithful to her husband. The guy had been away from her and their child for most of their marriage, why was she so vehemently defending him?

"Yes, Earth is far away, isn't it?" he decided on a different approach.

She shrugged, bending to take the wet cloth from where Kirk had let it fall onto the bed. Then she went to the sink to rinse it, depositing her phaser to the side. With McCoy in Kirk's arms, the captain was near immobilized, he was no threat.

"However, you haven't left Earth behind, have you?" Kirk asked, following her with his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you cherish Earth culture, art, literature."

She turned around, holding the cleaned cloth in her hands, watching him with an amused look on her face. "Look around, Captain! Does this place look like a temple of art and literature to you? There's no room to swing a cat!"

He chuckled. "Yeah. But, I bet you have your copies of Shakespeare lying around somewhere on a PADD. Or do you even have printed versions?"

"Shakespeare?" she grabbed the phaser, and walked over to the bed again, handing Kirk the folded cloth which he took, and gently placed on McCoy's brow.

"Yes. Titus Andronicus, one of the lesser known plays."

She stared at him, surprised, and Kirk silently congratulated himself for having looked up that particular quote Tamulok had used to threaten him some weeks ago. Maybe his human wife was the reason why the Romulan was so familiar with human idioms and Earth's classics.

"It's Tamulok's favourite play. I bet you also have a copy of Ovid lying around."

"Metamorpheses."

"Right. And some episodes of "The Simpsons". I'm sure you watched them with your husband," he said, remembering more of Tamulok's use of allusions and quotes from Earth's classics.

Watching him, she stepped back to take position on the chair by the table where she had been sitting, phaser in hand, for the last four hours or so.

"Tarses is a Vulcan merchant," she repeated quietly.

Kirk shifted slightly, feeling kinks in his back. How could he complain though? He wasn't the one with the phaser wound in his shoulder. He didn't have an overstimulated immune system forming antibodies against that damned virus. He wasn't the one whom Tamulok was trying to manipulate, to "drown" with his sheer power of mind. Bones had always hated these mind-tricks, but Kirk had found them quite fascinating at times. Vulcan mythology was something he would have to spend more time on studying, he decided.

"Did your husband ever tell you about Surak, the most important Vulcan philosopher?" he asked her.

"He did not speak much about his culture."

It did not surprise him. He was Romulan, what would he know about Surak?

"Did that not seem strange to you? Especially considering that he practically soaked up what you taught him about Earth's culture."

"He was not very fond of Vulcan. That's why he chose his profession. He liked to travel, meet other people, other cultures."

A Vulcan who was "not very fond" of his own culture. Now, there was an image, Bones would enjoy exploring. "What goods does he trade?" he asked.

"Just … goods. I don't know. He became interested in a mineral we find in the south, but haven't found any real use for, except, maybe for jewellery. He took samples from it some months ago. He said he'd found some people who were very interested in it."

Kirk's mind perked up at that. A very rare mineral called Vorka was what the Meriahns used to telepathically control their slaves. Maybe Tamulok had found some of that mineral on this planet?

"When did your son become sick?" Kirk changed the subject, or he didn't, only to her it seemed so.

She swallowed as she thought about her son who was now with her husband, God only knew where. He was sixteen, physically quite well, except for that newly developed slight cold, but mentally he was helpless. She hadn't known _what_ was going on in his head for years. As painful as it had been, she had somehow gotten used to it, used to seeing her son, of touching him, not knowing if he recognised her, or if he was feeling pain, if he was content, or screaming inside his head at her to help him.

But when he'd started talking again a few days ago, all the pain of the past years had come back. He wouldn't tell her what he felt, wouldn't tell her what had happened, couldn't recall anything that she and the doctors and psychologists she'd taken him to had done with him in the past years. He only remembered his father, and said he wanted to be with him. But he'd said it in a detached kind of way, that she had doubted him.

How could she? Her son was talking for the first time in roughly 2 years, asking her for something, telling her his wishes, how could she say 'no' to him?

"Louis got sick two years ago," she remembered, "he started having strange dreams at first. Then he became more and more quiet, didn't talk or move much anymore, except when he was hungry. Our doctor said it was a form of autism. But I never quite believed him. Since when does autism break out so suddenly? The doctor said it could have something to do with his genes. Half Vulcan, half human, no one really knows what this mix of genes can cause in an individual, but still, it was so painful to watch my own son withdraw completely into himself."

Kirk nodded, "Did he get sick during or after a visit from your husband?"

She looked sharply at him, drawing her eyebrows together. Kirk was still not moving, holding the doctor's hand tightly against his chest, keeping him still. A rattling sound was coming from him. Congestion. As the doctor began to cough, Kirk shifted him forward so that he could lightly pat him on the back between his shoulder blades.

McCoy's eyes flew open, looked around confusedly, helplessly, his free hand groped at the air in front of him. A gurgling sound, an angry shout that mixed with a cough and a pained groan came from him.

"Bones, don't. You're okay. You're safe. Keep breathing. C'mon," he said quietly, patiently, as he'd done so many times before.

The doctor kept struggling weakly, but persistently, hurting himself more while doing so, but not making the connection. "Water! I'm drowning," he slurred, and she asked herself again, what images the doctor was seeing in his mind, why had they always something to do with water and drowning?

"Bones, we're sitting on a bed. There's no water here, you're breathing air, aren't you?" Kirk asked calmly, reasoning with him, but knowing the same time, it was probably useless. Yet, he always tried.

The doctor stopped moving for a while, confused. Then pushed at the air again. "He's trying to push me under," he whispered.

"I know," Kirk said gently, stroking his hair, "I'm here to keep you up. He won't win, trust me."

It calmed McCoy, and after a while, his eyes closed again.

She hadn't expected this. McCoy was far worse than any of the other patients. Sure, the phaser burn had been added on top of the infection, however, there was something else. This confused look, it didn't seem to be normal, even with a fever. It reminded her of the time when her son's dreams had started. She had held him at night, reassured him, dried his tears. Louis had never told her what he'd seen.

"What is he seeing?" she asked.

"I don't know. But I have a suspicion," Kirk said still looking down at his friend. Then he shifted his attention back to her, "so, your husband was here when your son got sick, wasn't he?"

She nodded. Her husband had told her she was being a mother hen. _He_ had laughed about the dreams, had even complained that his son's antics at night were keeping him from his sleep. It seemed cold and heartless to her now. But for some reason it hadn't then.

"He said he would come back with a cure. … And he did, obviously."

Kirk snorted. "As I've tried to tell you before, he infected his own son with that virus. He did not cure him, he only controls him to say what he wants him to say. He can control his every move, every word. Your son is sleeping, unable to wake up, unable to do anything except eating extremely sugary things."

She stood up angrily again, pointing her phaser at the Starfleet captain. "Why would he infect his own son with a virus? What does he have to gain by that?"

"Isn't it obvious? With the help of that virus he can control just about anyone on Romulus or Vulcan. He could have access to almost unlimited power. Don't you think he'd find that attractive?"

"Even if you're right, why would he have to infect his own son?" she repeated.

"As a vessel for that virus. He needs a living host to keep the virus alive, so that he can transport it back to Romulus."

She stared at him. It couldn't be. She just couldn't have married a Romulan terrorist without ever suspecting anything. "Then why hasn't he gone back to Romulus? What's he still doing here?"

Kirk sighed, frustrated. The reasons they had found Tamulok here on the planet were diverse. It may have been that, as Velal had suspected, Tamulok still had had to pay his Orion accomplices. Maybe he even wanted to say goodbye to his wife. But most of all it must have had something to do with what they'd discovered, when they'd arrived in the small village. Some people were suffering from a sickness, Legian fever, as the symptoms had suggested, a sickness that wasn't uncommon among the people of rural areas like these, mostly harmless, though painful.

When McCoy had examined the patients, however, he'd found a different virus. The cause had been genetic shift. The Legian virus had exchanged genetic sequences with another virus, inside a living host, probably Tamulok's son, Louis, who was half human and half Romulan and whom Tamulok had infected with the virus from Meriah two years ago, maybe as a backup plan, should his crew whom he had infected too, get lost, or die.

So, now they had to deal with a mutation of the Meriah virus, that not only caused the symptoms of the fever, while still having its abilities to enhance receptivness for telepathic control in its hosts, but that also befell humans beside Romulans and Vulcans. McCoy had been sure of this. They still had to find out to what extend a human could be controlled through it, since humans did not have telepathic abilities. However, Spock had suspected that through the virus, humans could be manipulated into doing something, they normally wouldn't do. Vote for someone they normally wouldn't vote for. Keep quiet when they'd normally protest. Stay at home, when they'd normally take action. He did not want to imagine what kind of power Tamulok could gain with it.

So far, only few people in the village were infected with the new virus, and Tamulok wanted to explore it further, no doubt about that. He had smelled the chance to not only control Romulans and Vulcans, but also humans, and he'd become greedy.

"He's spotted an opportunity."

"You're imagining things. We're just a far away colony. No one ever was interested in us. It's absurd to think that we're suddenly at the center of an interplanetary crisis, with my husband the villain who wants to dominate the universe."

Kirk nodded. The whole story did sound somewhat unbelievable, he had to admit. Still, he couldn't believe that she never saw any signs that her husband wasn't the harmless merchant he wanted to make her believe. "Have you ever met his Orion accomplices?"

She shrugged. "Fleetingly. He said they would be giving me a headache."

He shook his head. "Didn't it worry you that he had connections to the Orion Syndicate?"

"He's a _merchant_. He has connections to all sorts of people."

Kirk sighed again. "Right. You won't be convinced by anything I say. In a way, Mrs Tarses, that's admirable. You're a good, loyal wife, but for reasons I cannot comprehend. Your husband never tells you anything about his past. Or has he talked about his family, has he introduced you to his parents? Did you see where he grew up? Has he told you any details about where he is, what his doing, and whom he meets when he disappears for months, even years in a row? Has he given you an explanation about what kind of illness your son is suffering from, and where he has found the "cure"? Has he been here to support you when you were all alone, not knowing what was going on with him? Where was he when you were running from doctor to psychologist to doctor with your child?"

She opened her mouth to yell at him, when another violent cough tortured the doctor's body, and he started to literally grasp for air with his hand, moaning, pleading: "Don't let me drown."

Kirk stroked the doctor's hair, tucking in his head under his chin. "Bones, Bones. You're not drowning. You're in a house, sitting on a bed. Look, there's a flower in a pot to your left." He turned his friend's head, hoping he would reckognise some of his surroundings now. Surely, it was past time for him to come out of this fever?

"No, air!" he heard him whisper, choking.

He continued to stroke the wet, sweaty hair from his brow, lightly blowing some strands away from behind his ear, too. "There's plenty of air, Bones. Just breathe, I know it's difficult, you still got congestion in your lungs, but you won't drown. You won't suffocate."

"How, do _you_ know? You're not a doctor," came the irritated reply that brought a relieved smile to the captain's face.

"No, but you told me what to expect, before you pulled this stunt, remember?"

"No. … God, I feel awful," he groaned.

"I bet."

"Jim, I think he was … he knows. He's trying to … drown me,"

"You're not going under, I'm holding you up, relax, Bones," he soothed once more.

"Relax? I was shot!" the doctor complained through clenched teeth.

"I know, I was there," he whispered.

"Jim, where's Spock?"

"He'll be back."

"Back from where?"

"From where he is. Bones, relax, everything's fine. Except of course, that you have a phaser wound in your shoulder and your immune system is raging inside your bloodstream, fighting a biological weapon."

"I'm … Jim, don't … I ..." He coughed again, violently, sagging back against Kirk as he'd finished, passing out from the pain and exhaustion.

Kirk sighed in frustration and tried to remember why he had agreed on Bones' plan.

"How many Vulcans do you know?" she asked, suddenly surprising him with the question, and pulling him out of his thoughts. She was watching him intently. What was it that she saw?

"One of my best friends is a half Vulcan," he answered, shrugging slightly, careful not to jostle Bones.

"Spock is a half Vulcan?"

He nodded. And she sat down on the floor in front of the bed, putting the phaser down behind her.

"All I ever wanted was to be happy. When I met Tarses, I thought he made me happy. When Louis was born, my priorities shifted. I wanted _him_ to be happy, above all. But it was difficult. I felt he was always … struggling. I don't know, first I thought it was the other kids, who picked on him, because he was different. But when he got sick, I thought, maybe it was really an inner conflict. Biology."

He looked at her, thinking.

"Captain," she started, "you're best friend, Spock, is he …?"

He waited. "Yes?"

"Is he happy?"


	3. Chapter 3

Kirk was stunned for a moment. Was Spock happy? It was a question he couldn't answer and he could just imagine what Spock would say, how it was an illogical question, how being _happy_ or _un_happy was an emotion, and therefore for him, as a Vulcan, it was not only impossible to answer, but also irrelevant. Still, he could understand the woman's question. Her son was half human, too, with pointy ears, and from what he'd gathered so far, he hadn't had a very happy childhood.

He didn't know much about Spock's childhood, he had to admit to himself. But he had been growing up on Vulcan, among rational, logical people, not suspicious, envious, emotional humans who were prone to xenophobia. However, there must have been a reason why Spock had chosen to spend his life mostly among humans, even though he denied almost everything that was human within himself. Bones had spent the last five years pointing that out to anyone who would listen, and anyone who would not listen, especially Spock himself. At first, Kirk had been worried that Spock would become upset, would interpret Bones' well-meaning psycho-analysis, good-humored and sometimes not so good-humored teasing as racist insults. But over time he'd found out, that Spock actually enjoyed the doctor's verbal affronts, not that he'd ever admit it, of course.

"Well," he started, trying to find an answer, "he's got good friends who love him and whom he loves in return." At least that was true, and what else was happiness?

"I can imagine," she said, looking back at Kirk, her expression softening.

Kirk saw his chances of winning the woman's trust were rising. But he had to be careful. He was still very aware of his own phaser, that was in her possession at the moment, and most of the time pointed at him, even though she was becoming lax with it. He was sure he could take it from her in one of her unguarded moments, but was that wise? Maybe he could gain more by winning her heart.

Spock was still out there, if he had found and captured Tamulok, they would need some support in this village, so that they could administer the vaccine to everyone. Not all of the villagers were trusting them. If Tamulok was still loose on the other hand, he'd have to do _everything_ to get him. They could explain later. However, it would mean he'd have to leave Bones which he didn't want to do. He wasn't in any immediate danger, though, as Bones had assured him himself, just before he'd given himself that hypo with the virus in it.

He sighed._ Spock, what's taking you so long? _

"Are you hungry?" she asked him, after a while of just sitting on the floor, watching.

He was. So, why not replenish his energy, when given the opportunity? "Yes. Thank ..."

He was interrupted by a violent rapping at the door. She stood, startled, raising the phaser again, aiming at the door. "Who's there?"

"Brent," came the reply through the door, "I have news, ... and a captive."

Kirk swallowed as dread and frustration formed in his gut. Brent was a guy they had met on their first encounter with the villagers. He hadn't been the most friendly, said he hated Starfleet officers. And Vulcans.

As she opened the door, Brent, a mid forty year old man with a boxer's face and a butcher's figure walked in, pushing a half Vulcan into the room, threatening him with a phaser. A Starfleet issue phaser, as Kirk recognised immediately.

"Spock!" he exclaimed sourly, "Had any success?"

Spock briefly scanned the room and the middle-aged woman with Kirk's phaser, before his eyes settled on his captain who was sitting on a bed, an injured, feverish McCoy slumped in his arms.

"I've found Mr. Brent, Captain," he said calmly, "What about you and the doctor?"


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk grimaced, but said nothing.

"What is it, Brent? Did you find Louis?" Lena Tarses asked, worried.

Maybe now was a good time to overwhelm her and get ahold of that phaser, Kirk thought, however Bones was somehow limiting his mobility. And that Brent guy was there, too. Brent, with _Spock's_ phaser.

"You get over there, too!" Brent shouted at Spock, indicating the bed that was occupied by Kirk and McCoy.

Spock went over to stand beside them.

"Sit!" the man demanded, shoving the phaser into Spock's direction for emphasis. When Spock sat down on the floor with his back leaning against the bed, Brent slightly turned towards Lena, meaning to be confidential, but the room was too small to get any privacy.

"He was following Tarses and your son. I followed him. When he pulled a phaser at your husband, I knocked him out."

Kirk groaned under his breath. "You didn't notice he was following you?" he hissed.

"Obviously not, Captain," Spock replied, calmly.

"He couldn't," Brent turned towards them with pride, "I'm good at moving silently. Your Starfleet training is nothing against the training we receive growing up as close to nature as we do here. A Rigelian rabbit wouldn't have heard me."

"An inapt comparison. A Rigelian rabbit's hearing is inferior to my Vulcan hearing," Spock commented, raising an eyebrow.

For once, Spock's smart-ass attitude infuriated Kirk. "Well, _why_ didn't you hear him then, _Spock_?"

The Vulcan wasn't affected by Kirk's tone. "I believe the reason was Mr Brent's superior training in moving silently."

"Are you telling me, that the years and years of training at the Academy, your experience as Starfleet's "best" first officer, and your superior Vulcan ears are all nothing compared to "growing up close to nature"?"

"No. But Mr Brent _is_ exceptionally good at moving silently," Spock answered and went on after a small pause: "I also may have been … distracted."

"_Distracted_? Spock! You can't …," Kirk knew he was being unfair, he was just frustrated as hell, that Tamulok had escaped yet _again_. But before he could stop himself, someone else did.

"STOP IT!" Bones shouted, and it did have the desired effect, for Kirk stopped mid-sentence, surprised by Bones' sudden interest in their conversation.

"Jim, stop yelling at Spock, it wasn't as if he let himself be captured _on purpose_! He's only human!"

There was a pause that showed Kirk that Spock was as surprised by McCoy's intervention as he had been himself. A moment had passed when he could hear Spock taking a breath to give the doctor the expected reply, and Bones continued: "_Don't_ say it, Spock! Or I swear, I'm gonna throw up on you!"

"That would be unpleasant," Spock quietly commented, but said nothing further.


	5. Chapter 5

Brent watched the brief exchange between the three Starfleet men. More was said than the actual words, he suspected, and didn't like it. If they thought they could outsmart him, they were wrong.

"Well, well, if you aren't the _Three Musketeers_!" he sneered.

"More like the _Three Stooges_," McCoy mumbled, and pushed himself away from Jim, settling against the wall, almost toppling over the potted plant to his right, grimacing in reaction to the pain in his shoulder.

"_Stooges_, Doctor?" Spock asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Moe, Larry, and Curly, Spock. You should look them up!"

"Well, we all managed to loose our phasers," Jim mumbled.

"Even _you,_ Jim! Bad day?"

The doctor was rather crotchety, Lena observed, but he was annoyed with his captain, not with her or Brent, even though it was _them_ who pointed a phaser at the three right now. Hell, her _son_ had _shot _him, something she still couldn't quite believe, although she had seen it herself. Could it be true what the captain had said? That her husband was somehow controlling her son? Had it been in fact _him_ who had tried to kill the doctor?

"Well, _I_ was distracted while holding your head over a bucket as you lost your breakfast. Which reminds me: Mrs Tarses, didn't you say something about food?" Kirk addressed her again, smiling charmingly.

"Is _food_ all you can ever think about?"

"Nutrient intake _is_ a good idea, Doctor, especially for you, since you're behaving rather indignantly, which is a sign of hypoglycemia, as you should know."

"I'll show you indignantly, you green-blooded hobgoblin."

"It is also a sign, that he's feeling better, as _you_ should know, Spock. Or aren't you, Bones?" Kirk interrupted, still smiling, And had he just _winked_ at her?

"No. I mean, I _am_ feeling better. I guess we can start synthesizing that vaccine soon. But really, Jim, I was raised in Georgia. I know how to behave."

"Interesting. I admit I've never been to the southern regions of the United States, but if your manners are an example of that famous "southern hospitality", I begin to doubt that I'd, as you would call it, _enjoy myself _there."

"Ha!" McCoy snorted, turning towards Lena, as if he wanted to speak confidentially to her: "He couldn't enjoy himself if his _life_ depended on it."

She didn't know how to react. The whole situation was quite bizarre. Here she was, Lena Tarses, pointing a phaser at three high Starfleet officers who were sitting on her bed, bickering with each other without being much intimidated by her or Brent who also looked quite dumbfounded at the moment. Kirk was even flirting with her, and the doctor, although he had a phaser wound in his shoulder and a strange virus in his system, was arguing with the Vulcan science officer about manners.

"Stop it!" Brent interrupted. And they all turned towards him for a second. He wasn't the smartest guy, and although mostly harmless, she knew he could become dangerous when he felt cornered.

"Brent, where were Tarses and Louis going?" Lena inquired, looking from him to Spock and back again.

"It seemed they were headed towards the river," Spock replied.

"Lloyd's Canyon," Brent finally nodded in agreement, "maybe Tarses wanted to take the boy fishing?"

"Improbable. They weren't carrying any fishing equipment," Spock said.

"He has a small hut on the river, where he keeps stuff," Lena explained, "Louis said his father was going to take him out on a trip."

"And you believed that?" McCoy asked her.

Lena felt a bout of anger inside her again. "Why would he lie?"

"Because your husband's a Romulan Tal Shiar agent, Mrs Tarses. He wants to use your son as a living weapon to gain power," Kirk repeated once again.

"Tarses, a Romulan?" Brent laughed out and aimed his phaser at Kirk, "I've known him all my life, he's a pointed-eared bastard, but no Romulan. And his son is a useless tard."

Lena cringed, but said nothing.

"You could hardly have known Tarses, as you call him, all your life," Spock pointed out, "or how old _are_ you?"

"That's none of your business, you green-blooded orc." Brent spit at Spock, now threatening _him_ with his phaser.

"Now, people like _him_ really annoy me," McCoy said pointing at Brent and giving Kirk a strange look.

Kirk grinned, "Why's that, Bones?" he asked innocently.

"Because," he intonated as if that was the answer, then after a short pause he went on: "That man is an irascible, xenophobic _idiot_."

Brent briefly got distracted, turning towards McCoy who in his opinion had called the Vulcan politically incorrect names himself just a minute before, when a split second later Kirk _and_ Spock were suddenly standing in front of him, an arm's length away, about to jump at him. Fortunately for Brent, they were stopped by Lena who fired her phaser at the plant to the right of McCoy's head. It briefly glowed, then disappeared completely. The phaser was set to kill.

"Stop it, or I'll make you!" she shouted, making all of them freeze.

Spock and Kirk looked at each other, exchanging a silent message, then reluctantly sat down again, defeated.

McCoy looked in amazement at the spot where the plant had been just a moment before. "Good shot!" he commented, shifting in his place, grimacing when the pain from the phaser wound in his shoulder hit him again.

"I'm sorry my son shot you," Lena said, her voice quiet, "he … only wanted to spend time with his father."

"_He_ didn't shoot me, ma'am. It was his father. Your son is sleeping, and has been ever since he got infected."

"They say he's an autist."

"Poppycock! He wasn't born that way, was he?"

"No, he wasn't. But his Vulcan genes ..."

"What about them?" McCoy stopped her, then pointed at Spock who was again sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the bed. "Mr. Spock over there is the living example that Vulcan-Human hybrids are just as happy as you and me."

"You just said he couldn't enjoy himself if his life depended on it."

"Although your observation is correct, Mrs Tarses, the words are just an example of Doctor McCoy's unfitting and often confusing illustrative language. I've come to master it, however, and therefore can translate it for you. What he meant is that a genome of mixed origin, like mine which is half Human and half Vulcan, does not cause any physical or mental deficiencies," Spock addressed her, his face as straight as ever, though he must be joking, or not?

"That's true, ma'am, although Spock won't master my artistic language if he'll live to be a hundred," McCoy said, slightly smiling.

"A hundred? That's no age for a Vulcan. You should know that, Bones," Kirk interfered. He seemed to be enjoying himself, Lena observed. "Also, the boy's not half Vulcan, he's half _Romulan_." he stressed the last word, looking up at Lena again.

"Sometimes you're as nitpicky as your first officer, Jim. Romulan, Vulcan, ... biologically there's not much of a difference."

"I said stop it!" Brent shouted again. And they looked at him expectantly once again.

"Well, Brent, what do you intend to do with us now?" Kirk asked.

Brent breathed a few times before he answered: "You will stay here, until Tarses comes back."

"Well, I hope he _does_ come back," Kirk mumbled to himself, and he really did. If Tamulok escaped once more, he'd go crazy. The Enterprise was in orbit, so even if Tamulok had a shuttle or a small ship hidden somewhere, he couldn't leave the planet without being detected. Sooner or later, they'd catch him. After McCoy had found out that there was a new, mutated version of the Meriah virus in the village, Kirk had given Scotty the order to refrain from sending down any more personnel. If this virus was as dangerous as they thought, it was necessary to stop its spreading under all circumstances.

"Until then," McCoy brought Kirk out of his musings, "I can already start working on a vaccine. That virus mutated, and if I'm correct, it can no longer be eliminated by zero gravity. However, the sooner we get this vaccine, the more likely it is that we can stop the spreading of the disease."

As he started moving off the bed, Brent stepped from one foot to the other, nervously gripped his phaser, and looked at Lena, not knowing how to react.

"Really, Mr Brent, I can't even move my right arm, you're not going to shoot an invalid, are you?" McCoy grumbled at him and got to his feet. Lena moved over to steady him, and for a moment she feared the doctor, or Spock, or Kirk, could use the situation to try something, but nothing happened. McCoy only moved over to the kitchen table where he had earlier deposited some of his instruments and started working, oblivious to the angry stares Brent was giving him.

"You think that's a good idea?" Brent asked Lena, indicating McCoy who had drawn some blood from his neck and was now placing it in a vial that was part of a medical apparatus.

"The disease _is_ spreading among the villagers. If he can help us, it would be stupid to hinder him," Lena said, stepping back so she could keep an eye on McCoy as well as Kirk and Spock.

"What if he's building a bomb, or something?"

"A bomb? You know, I'm not McGyver, Mr Brent," McCoy snapped.

Lena laughed into herself, she didn't really know why she trusted McCoy, but she did. Also Kirk and Spock didn't really seem a threat to her. However, they wanted her husband, and wasn't it her duty as a wife to protect him? And her son?

"How would a bomb help them, Brent? They're in the same room as we are. Also, he's a Starfleet doctor, and as such he has sworn an oath to do no harm," she tried to calm.

"Oh, and what does that stupid oath mean to him? You don't know that!"

"I assure you Mr Brent, in spite of Doctor McCoy's irrational personality, to my knowledge, there is no other doctor in Starfleet or _elsewhere_ who honours the oath of doing no harm more seriously than him," Spock said evenly.

"Oh yeah?" Brent snorted, "Says who?"

"Says a Vulcan whose penchant of always telling the truth is a real pain in the ass at times," McCoy replied, not looking up from his work.

"Both is true," Kirk replied to the confused look Brent was giving him, with a grin.

"You find my devotion to the truth is a "pain in the ass", Captain?" Spock asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, _at times_, Mr Spock. Maybe it is a human weakness that we sometimes, on rare occasions, want to be lied to."

"It's called _politeness,_" McCoy agreed.

"On the other hand, Spock, only real friends tell you when your face is dirty," Kirk shrugged, observing Bones closely and then giving Spock a meaningful look.

"Your face is relatively clean, Captain," Spock answered to a question Kirk had never asked, and it made Kirk smile, "But you and the doctor could both use a shower." he continued after a pause, holding Kirk's stare.

"Would you _stop_ talking!" Brent sounded exasperated.

"I've got it!" McCoy suddenly said, holding up his hypo in triumph. "This should immunize us all. Well, I'm already immune, of course. But it should work on humans as well as half humans."

Kirk and Spock exchanged a look, then Kirk looked at the doctor again, his eyes boring into him. "Great, Bones. What are you waiting for?"

"Right," McCoy did a step towards Lena, but she retreated from his approach, "How about I give Jim and Spock the first shot?"

Lena nodded in agreement, and as she saw McCoy gave first Spock and then Kirk the hypo, she agreed on getting the third dose.

"It will not put us in a similar state you were in, will it?" she asked, realizing it was a bit too late to ask that, since she'd already received the hypo.

"No, no. The nausea, fever, and congestion where mostly symptoms caused by the immune stimulant. Also, you didn't get anything of the virus, only the antibodies. You shouldn't feel anything," he reassured her. Then stepped over to Brent, the last person who hadn't been innoculated.

"No!" he shook his head vehemently, "You're not giving me that hypo!"

"Why? I gave it to everyone else."

"Not yourself."

"Because it's unnecessary. But if you insist," he raised the hypo to his neck and injected himself with the contents without further ado. As he let his arm sink again, he addressed Brent who was still aiming at Spock once more: "Ready?"

"You're just trying to knock me out!"

"Oh, please! Stop being so paranoid. As I said, I gave it to everyone else," McCoy rolled his eyes, then rested them briefly on Spock's intent stare.

Brent looked at Lena who only shrugged.

"If my hypo knocks you out, you can shoot Spock," McCoy grinned, and raised his arm slowly, placing the hypo against Brent's neck.

The same instant Lena heard the hiss of the hypo going off, Kirk was up from the bed, and twisted the phaser away from her with one hand, while the other turned her around against him. She lost her orientation only for a split second, but when she came to herself again, she saw Spock lowering an unconscious Brent to the ground while pulling the phaser from him.

"W-hat?" she stuttered, shorttaken.

"The fifth dose was a sedative. He'll be fine. Don't worry," McCoy tried to assure her.

She pulled away from Kirk who simply let her go. Surprised, she scrutinized Kirk, then Spock, then McCoy, then Kirk again. "How did you …?" she didn't finish the sentence, just made a gesture that embraced this whole mess.

"Oh, I'd be a fool to explain my secret weapon to you," Kirk said, smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

She had been blindsided by these three Starfleet officers. The captain with that charming smile, his hazel eyes and that vibrant energy that seemed to eminate from every fibre of his body, even when he was sitting absolutely still on her bed, had tried to convince her for almost a _full day_ now that her own husband was an evil Romulan spy. He'd tried rational, persuading, ensnaring, smiling, calm, angry, and consoling. He had given her proof that he knew her husband quite well, knew his mannerisms, his way to talk, his favourite Shakespeare play, and told her a story about a virus, a distant planet, a scheme her husband was plotting to take over the whole damn _universe_.

She hadn't believed him, hadn't _wanted_ to believe him. Not because she was madly in love with Tarses, not because she couldn't, by _any_ stretch of the imagination, think the captain _could_ be correct, but because it angered her that he honestly believed _he _knew her own husband better than she did. It angered her that he seemed to think she would forget seventeen years of marriage, of loyalty "in good times and bad" the moment "Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise" appears on her doorstep. Yes, her marriage hadn't exactly been what one would call "happy", but which marriage actually is? She had refused to admit to herself that she had been cheated by the man she had enthusiastically married as a young, naive girl. Not cheated in the way wives were usually cheated by their husbands, but cheated in a way that made her seem even more naive and stupid.

And she had been thinking about Louis. Tarses had never been the picture-perfect example of a father, but he had also never been cruel, violent or _completely_ uninterested. Louis had _spoken_, for the first time since her husband had last left them. He had always adored his father, it made sense he would react to him. If she let these men arrest Tarses, what would that make her in her son's eyes?

So, she had let the captain talk until he was blue in the face.

The Vulcan, Spock, had quickly accepted that she was not open for any arguments, and had left the persuading to the captain, to go outside The doctor had been busy with that virus. And to admit, she was grateful he was here. That strange new virus was scaring her too, people started behaving strangely. Being this far away from Earth, or Vulcan, or Andoria, or any other of the so-called "civilized" planets gave you independence, yes, but it also meant you were on your own, always a bit behind the latest technologies. Of course they also had doctors, but she suspected they weren't quite up to date. And they seldomly came to their little village.

McCoy had set up a small laboratory on her kitchen table, and had complained several times that it wasn't as sophisticated as the lab on board their ship, although for her, it seemed to be more modern than anything she'd ever seen on her own planet. McCoy had strongly argued against beaming back aboard the ship, however, as they'd all been exposed to the virus. He'd placed them under quarantine until he would have found a cure.

When Louis had suddenly shot the doctor with the phaser that he had carelessly left on the tabletop as he worked, she hadn't thought a second before grabbing the captain's phaser from his belt, to aim it at the captain, before the captain could aim it at her son. It had been surprisingly easy, and she could tell Kirk was a bit embarrassed about it. It had brought her some kind of satisfaction. at first. _You're not so smart after all, are you, Captain James T. Kirk? _

Louis had fled and she hadn't known what to do. Her son had shot a Starfleet officer, not killing him, thank God, but he had _shot_ him. As she knew Starfleet, they'd bring up charges against him and fast too, even though both, Kirk and McCoy, seemed to be of the opinion that her son had not been in control of himself and that her husband had somehow manipulated him into doing it. She'd been confused, her instincts had told her to protect her son, and so she had ended up pointing a phaser at a captain and lieutenant commander of Starfleet, while trying to clear her thoughts. When Brent and the Vulcan commander had appeared, the situation had become even more complicated. She didn't like Brent, he _was _an irascible, xenophobic idiot as McCoy had described him, but he was also a fellow villager. It was all about loyalty again. She knew they all were said to be extremely stubborn and suspicious of strangers. She'd always thought she was an exception, she had after all, _married_ a stranger. But in the end, maybe she wasn't as open-minded as she'd always thought herself to be.

When she had vaporized her poor houseplant, she had immediately been horrified by her own action. She'd only shot out of an irrational, even childish, notion on her part, she had to admit to herself. She had wanted to show this brash _Captain James T. Kirk_ _of the Federation Starship Enterprise_ (really, could he have introduced himself with more words?) that he just couldn't do whatever he wanted. This was _her_ house, her husband, _her_ damn _planet_. But she wouldn't have used the weapon against any of the three. In the end, when Kirk had twisted the phaser away from her, it had been sort of a relief.

"Spock, would you stop playing nurse on me, be a good science officer and turn your attention towards the task at hand?" McCoy impatiently addressed the Vulcan who was using the dermal regenerator that had been beamed down at the captain's request, together with more medical equipment, on the doctor's injured shoulder.

Kirk was still speaking into his communicator a few feet away, He had the two phasers securely placed in his belt and other hand. There was no way she'd get ahold of one of them again. She also wouldn't try, as she'd assured Kirk, though she could tell that she hadn't convinced him completely. Brent was now lying on the bed, snoring peacefully. He'd be out for several more hours, as McCoy had informed them.

"I _am_ paying all my attention to the task at hand, Doctor. And I am surprised that as a physician, you don't know that a wound like this must be treated effectively to not become infected."

"I'm touched by your concern for my well-being, Spock," McCoy grinned, sparing a glance at the Vulcan before returning his attention to the tricorder readings again. "But time is really of essence here."

"My concern for your health is solely based on the fact that you are, unfortunately, the only expert on virology who is present at the moment. If you stop functioning because of an infection resulting from neglecting to properly treat this phaser burn, it will prove difficult for the captain and me to be able to return to Enterprise in the near future."

She shook her head, catching Kirk's eye who was also watching them, dividing his attention between his conversation with the ship, Lena Tarses, and the conversation going on between his two officers.

He shrugged at her, smiling slightly. _I'd be a fool to explain my secret weapon to you_, the captain had said with that cocky grin of his. Well, he didn't need to explain, she already had an idea.

"I see. Well, if I'm not hallucinating, you just confessed that I'm better qualified than _you_ are, which at least gives me some kind of satisfaction," McCoy continued, not taking his eyes off the tricorder.

"I've repeatedly observed that the things you take satisfaction from are rather plain, if not to say primitive, Doctor," Spock answered without missing a beat, and without stopping in his task.

McCoy snorted. "I take joy in the little things, Spock. That's why I'm such a cheerful soul."

Spock put the dermal regenerator away as he finished sealing the wound, then pulled down and straightened out what was left of the sleeve and shirt of the doctor's uniform, in a hopeless, futile attempt.

"Fascinating. Your self-perception seems to be quite distorted there, Doctor, as large parts of the crew seem to be of the opinion that you are "a grumpy old crank"."

Kirk surpressed another grin, and slightly turned away to concentrate on his conversation with his ship's acting captain. She also felt a smile spreading on her lips, warming places in her heart she'd long forgotten where even there.

McCoy looked at Spock with a frown. "_Old_? Really, there's no need to become offensive."

"Doctor, I am a Vulcan. I don't know how to be offensive, I merely state facts. And what you take as an insult from my part was a quote by a crewmember."

"By who exactly?"

"I don't believe he would want me to reveal his name to you."

"So it was a _he_? Well, of course it was, since the gentle sex has always had a thing for me."

Kirk had pocketed his communicator and paused, watching his two officers argue for a second. His features and posture changed, relaxed. As he stood there, observing the Vulcan and the doctor exchanging their sharp, but still friendly jibes, his face smoothed, his shoulders sagged, his back straightened and suddenly he seemed ten years younger than just a minute before. It was like he was recharging his batteries, drawing energy from the strange dynamic going on between the other two. _His_ _secret weapon_, Lena mused, as she focused her attention back on the conversation going on between them.

Spock almost rolled his eyes, almost, but he caught himself in time. "Doctor, didn't you just point out that_ time was of essence_? I suggest we ..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" McCoy interjected, grinning from one ear to the other, for he felt he'd won an argument. "Lets's start. But, just for the record, _you _started this pointless discussion."

"I did not."

Kirk moved from his position and strode towards them decidedly, bouncing slightly on his toes. "Gentlemen, even if we never know who _started_ it, it sadly almost always is the same person who _ends_ it: _me._"

"That's not true, Jim," McCoy looked at him guiltily, oblivious to the comfort the captain had actually taken from listening to his exchange with the Vulcan.

"While you were talking to Mr Scott, the doctor and I were merely preparing ourselves to continue with the research on this virus," Spock said. And it wasn't a lie, as Kirk firmly believed. This bickering was some kind of ritual between the two, like checking the control lights before leaving a space dock. It told them that everything was _working within normal parameters_. What they maybe did _not_ realize was that it was also immensely comforting to _him_, especially since they hadn't done this in a while. And he'd truly missed it during the past weeks, he suddenly realized. Even though their situation wasn't really the best - Tamulok was still on the run, and they were currently not able to return to Enterprise due to a mutation of that blasted Meriah virus that apparently could befall humans now - he suddenly felt better than he had in a long time.

"How close to a vaccine are we, Bones?" he asked, getting down to business again.


	7. Chapter 7

"_How close to a vaccine are we, Bones?"_

McCoy frowned at the readings on the tricorder again. "Not as close as I hoped we were."

"I thought you already had it?" Lena asked curiously.

"No. What I injected us with was a saline solution, except Mr Brent, of course. Creating an innoculation that will work on _everyone_, without causing serious side-effects usually takes longer than a few minutes."

"What's the problem?" Kirk asked. Of course, he knew that synthesizing antibodies for a vaccine to a completely new virus could take months, even years or, in some cases, _decades_, but Bones had done nothing short of medical magic on many occasions before. And the antibodies already existed, inside Bones' own bloodstream. As far as he knew, that always was the hardest problem.

"Well," McCoy turned his attention back to the various vials and test tubes on the table, "the antibodies I synthesized are not acting as potently in the test tube as they did in my body."

"The concentration could be too low," Spock speculated, for the first time really focusing his attention on the virus problem.

"No. It's already 200 times higher than it was in my bloodstream," McCoy shook his head.

"Then there must be a synergy between the antibodies and something else from your bloodstream. Hormones? Enzymes?"

"That's what I also suspect. But it could be a million different things, Spock, to find that _one _factor could take months, even years."

"Time we don't have," Kirk mumbled.

"Why don't you inject people with the attenuated version of the virus you injected yourself with, to make their own immune systems create antibodies?" Lena asked, feeling a bit stupid.

"That would not help people who are _already_ infected," McCoy turned towards her, "on the contrary, it would worsen their condition. When I injected myself with that attenuated version of the virus, I had been on the planet for only a very short period of time, not enough to already be infected."

"That virus you injected yourself with, was not as attenuated as you had hoped, Bones. You were showing symptoms.."

"I know. We were pretty damned lucky it worked," McCoy chewed the inside of his lip, "You see, Mrs Tarses, this virus is quite aggressive. The immune system of a person who becomes infected the normal way, by the natural spread of the natural, unattenuated form of the virus, will produce antibodies immediately. However, it cannot cope with the onslaught of this virus, in other words it cannot form its own antibodies fast enough, and the person sooner or later becomes sick. If we innoculate that person with the same attenuated virus I injected myself with, the immune system will be overtaxed even more, and the person will show symptoms even faster than without the innoculation, especially since we know it is still quite aggressive. What we _need _is a serum that already contains antibodies, and efficient antibodies, not these inactive, lazy buggers," McCoy snapped his fingers against one of the vials on the table.

"How long before _we'll _start showing symptoms, Bones?" Kirk knew that Spock and himself must have become infected by now. It had been 8 hours since they'd arrived in the village.

"Well, considering the time it took for _me_ to show symptoms with the drugs I took to accelerate the process, I'd say you have another 36, maybe 42 hours."

"Then we have to act quickly. The longer Tamulok is out there, the more time he has to plan his escape."

"And in 36 to 40 hours he'll have the opportunity to control us through this virus," Spock finished for Kirk.

"Wait a minute," Lena interjected, still feeling somewhat dumb, "if this virus is so dangerous, why aren't I infected? Or Brent? And are you saying that everyone else in this village is now controlled by my husband? If that's the case, then why hasn't anyone tried to set my house on fire or something?"

They all looked at her, curiously. "Well, Bones?" Kirk addressed the doctor, waiting for an explanation. Maybe her question hadn't been so stupid after all.

"I've been thinking about that. First of all, I think this mutation hasn't happened too long ago. Only few of the villagers were infected when I examined them. Brent may simply not have had any contact with the virus, … up until now. Also that may be the reason why none of the people that Tamulok could control has tried to harm us. I mean, none of the sick are alone. Their families take care of them, and they'd keep them in bed, wouldn't they? Also, we think Tamulok cannot control humans to the extent he can control other telepaths. As to why Mrs. Tarses is not infected, I have a theory: so far all the sick patients are _male_. That may be a coincidence, but I think it is likely that it is not."

"So women are immune?"

"Or the incubation period just takes longer in the female body. As I said, I have to do some more tests."

Kirk sighed. "Right. You do that, but _hurry_, Bones. The Enterprise is stationed in orbit. They have the order to prevent any ships from entering orbit of Fvillhail Three. We don't want Tamulok to be beamed away by some of his Orion friends, or whomever else. Also, he can't leave the planet on a ship, without Enterprise detecting him. However, the longer he stays on the lose, the more uncomfortable I become. We need to find him."

"I take it then, Mr Scott wasn't able to modify the scanners?" Spock addressed Kirk.

"No, the minerals in the soil still make it impossible for Enterprise to locate him. I begin to think Tamulok picked this particular planet for his secret retreat with quite some care."

"That was to be expected. He _is_ a member of the Romluan Tal Shiar. "

"Thanks for reminding me, Spock. I almost forgot," Kirk's sarcastic reply wasn't completely humorless, however, Lena could tell that Kirk was tired. He handed the spare phaser over to the science officer, and turned to the doctor who was scrutinizing him. "You need anything, Bones?"

"Yes, ..." Bones started, but then he hesitated.

Kirk waited, as Bones just stared at him.

"And _what_ do you need?" Kirk asked, annoyed.

"I … Jim, are you going to go after Tamulok?"

"That was the plan. So, … _what do you need_?"

McCoy calculated carefully. He'd meant to ask for Spock's assisstance, but that would mean Kirk would have to go after Tamulok alone, and he didn't like that thought. However, even though Spock didn't have any medical education, that scientific, logical, Vulcan brain of his would be an incredible asset, and it was vital that they find a solution to their problem as soon as possible.

Surprisingly, Bones was saved the decision by the chirping of Kirk's communicator.

He took it out with a frown at McCoy. "Kirk here."

"This is Scott, captain. We're detecting ships leaving the surface of the planet."

Kirk inhaled sharply. "Hail them! Tell them that if they leave orbit, they're going to be fired at!"

"We did, ..." There was a pause, and Kirk heard Chekov report something to which Scotty replied with a curse.

"Mr Scott, report!" Kirk barked into his communicator.

"Sir, more and more ships are leaving the surface. We're now counting sixty … sixty-seven. They don't respond to our hails."


	8. Chapter 8

A major "Thank you" to Wikipedia for this one !

Reference to "Operation Annihilate"

Also, I'm making up facts about Vulcan-Human genetics here, I hope you'll forgive me.

o0o

Jim was outside, probably pacing the parameters like a caged animal, fuming at the fresh escape of Tamulok. A part of McCoy admired that Romulan for his resourcefulness and audacity. When sixty-seven ships had left the surface of Fvillhail Three, at the same time and quite unexpectedly, Enterprise had been simply unable to keep track of the sheer mass of vessels. The Romulan commander had used the anchovy trick: maximize your chances of survival by descending into a massive swarm. And although Kirk had pointed out that sixty-seven tiny ships could hardly be called a "massive swarm", McCoy did not blame Scotty. He had tried everything, from disabling the ships' engines with Enterprise's phasers, over capturing them in the tractor beam, to beaming whole ships directly into the cargo bays, and still Tamulok had managed to escape.

McCoy heard the sound of someone chopping wood. Jim had to blow off steam, he knew, and technically, there was nothing he had against that. Usually Kirk was quick in pulling himself together after a partial setback. His mind would start plotting a new plan almost immediately. In his experience, Captain Kirk always had a plan B, C or H, however, at the moment Kirk was stranded in an aggricultural colony and not sitting in the captain's chair of his beloved ship. They could not beam aboard the Enterprise, because of this damn virus. McCoy had seen it in Kirk's face that he had been tempted to disregard regulations and have them all beamed aboard anyway. So, McCoy had pulled the emergency break then, reminding Kirk: "I'm fairly sure I can find a cure, but I don't know how long it'll take. And, although extremely improbable, I can err." And it was true, he had to admit grudgingly. _Why would these antibodies not work outside of his own bloodstream? _

Jim had given in, ordered Scotty to seal and isolate the cargo bays, and pursue the vessels to maybe, just maybe, catch Tamulok anyway. Then he'd left wordlessly, leaving McCoy and Spock to do more research on this virus. He must be frustrated as hell. Emotions of rage, anger, guilt, helplessness and whatnot where probably battling inside him, McCoy imagined. He needed to vent those, yes. And he needed someone to help him focus again. The thing was, _he_ had other things to do right now. "Spock, why don't you go outside and see if you can help Jim?" McCoy asked, addressing the Vulcan who was bent over some new tricorder readings.

"Because I don't think we're in any immediate need for firewood," Spock answered.

"My god Spock. Do you always have to take everything I say literally?" he yelled, at him, his own frustration at their situation spilling over.

"Why do you not _say_ what you _mean_, Doctor? It would simplify our communication immensely."

McCoy breathed audibly, pulling himself together. When he started speaking, his voice became more quiet and restrained with each word: "SPOCK, I suggest you go outside and talk to Jim to help him focus his attention back on our problem."

"Our most immediate problem, Doctor, is this virus. We do not know for sure if Tamulok escaped this planet. Have you considered the possibility that he has created a distraction to make us believe he has left Fvillhail Three?"

McCoy frowned. "No. But if that's the case, then I don't see why you say this virus is our only problem. If you think Tamulok's still here, why, shouldn't you be searching for him?"

"I did not say the virus was our _only_ problem Doctor. If Tamulok is still on this planet, we have to capture him, yes. However, _I_ would be an illogical choice to go after him at this time. Must I remind you that I am a half-Vulcan, and quite susceptible for Tamulok's telepathic manipulation through this virus?"

McCoy swallowed. How could he have forgotten that? "Are you feeling any symptoms of mind manipulation?" he asked, immediately concerned.

"I cannot tell for certain, Doctor. At present I feel quite tired which could be a result of the continued lack of sleep and meditation I experienced over the last couple of days. I also feel the beginning of a cold which could hint towards an infection with the mutated form of the Meriah virus, or an infection with the common cold."

McCoy was up and scanning Spock with his medical tricorder even before he answered. "Why didn't you say anything before? You haven't slept properly in … how long?"

"I don't require as much rest as humans do."

"That was no answer to my … damn!" McCoy cursed, as he saw the readings.

"Spock, the infection has accelerated inside your system. No wonder you're feeling sick. You should lie down!" he grabbed Spock's forearms and pushed him towards the second bed in the room, since Brent was still occupying the other one.

Spock didn't resist which made McCoy worry even more. As he had sat him down, he turned to grab a hypo from the table, but was stopped by Spock's hand on his.

"Doctor. You have got to incapacitate me."

McCoy looked at him in shock, but nodded. "I will Spock, don't worry."

"This is important, Doctor. You _do_ remember what happened the last time I got infected with the original form of this virus."

McCoy nodded, gently grinning down at Spock: "You proved that your knowledge of the human anatomy is pretty lousy."

"I stabbed you with your own scalpel."

"Where the _Vulcan_ heart is," McCoy smiled, nodding his thanks to Lena who turned to get the captain. "Really, Spock, how could you have confused _me_, of all people, for a _Vulcan_?"

"I must have made the mistake of taking one of your statements literally again," Spock said, watching as McCoy turned to retrieve the hypo from the table.

"What's that?" the doctor asked distractedly, already setting the hypo.

"I remember you saying once, you had your heart in the right place."

McCoy stopped dumbfounded, searching Spock's face, which was paler than only a minute before, he thought, but maybe he was imagining things. "Spock, you're trying to be funny again."

"Did I fail?"

The question surprised McCoy. It was un-Spock-like. However, maybe it was just an attempt to lighten up the mood, or was it … not _Spock_ who was speaking?

"Yes," he said, guarding himself, and watching Spock's eyes. He remembered the blank, cold stare of them just the moment before Spock had sunk the scalpel into his side. It wasn't in them now, or was it?

"What happened?" Kirk asked as he came barging in, Lena on his heels.

McCoy turned slightly to acknowledge him, never quite letting Spock out of his eyes.

"Captain, as I am starting to feel the symptoms of the virus, I have asked Doctor McCoy to sedate me," Spock turned calmly towards his captain.

"What? Why does this happen so soon?" Kirk angrily addressed McCoy who unconsciously took a step away from the captain, as Spock observed. It was a sure sign that the doctor was experiencing feelings of guilt.

"Uh, yes, Jim. It seems his immune system is weaker than usual, because of a lack of sleep and meditation in the last couple of days."

"And you happened to oversee that?" Kirk wouldn't let it go, even as he turned his attention towards Spock.

"Captain, it is not Doctor McCoy's fault that I am sick. I should have informed him that I was not able to find the usual amount of rest and therefore was not in my usual physical condition, before we beamed down to this planet. As I have said to the doctor, we cannot be completely sure that Tamulok has left Fvillhail Three, or that he was the only one here who is able to control the infected. Since I pose a threat to you, I suggest you waste no more time and render me unconscious until Doctor McCoy has found a cure."

That was Spock speaking, McCoy was fairly sure. He looked questioningly at Kirk who not only was without his ship right now, but would also be forced to go without that genius first officer of his, waiting for his signal to go ahead and hypo Spock into unconsciousness.

"As CMO it is his responsibility to be always informed of the medical status of the crew, and _especially_ the command crew," Kirk all but shouted, and McCoy wasn't sure whether it was directed at himself or at Spock, but he cringed in reaction which wasn't lost to Spock who looked up at Kirk as cold and calm as ever.

McCoy knew Kirk's rare bouts of wrath could be intense, but they were almost always quick and fleeting. Usually he wasn't fazed when they were directed at him. The only exception was, when they were justified, as for example when he'd accidentally and completely unnecessarily blinded Spock in an overhasty attempt to kill that parasite that had caused the death of millions on Deneva, including Jim's brother and sister-in-law. Thankfully, Spock's blindness had turned out to be only temporary.

Spock started to lecture: "We are wasting time and energy, Captain. However, I believe I am obliged to remind you, that the good doctor was preoccupied with repeatingly informing _you_ about your _own_ medical status resulting from a complicated brain surgery just a few days ago. And _you_ repeatedly ignored him which can be seen as a violation of Starfleet regulations on _your_ behalf. Also, Doctor McCoy himself is under a tremendous amount of emotional as well as physical stress resulting from an understaffed medical department which he has to compensate for, an imprisonment on Meriah Five, an involvement in a situation with two Romulan Tal Shiar agents, and much more of which _you_ as the captain of the Enterprise should be aware of."

McCoy snorted. "Well, Jim what are you waiting for? Do I _now _have the permission to sedate him?"

Kirk's eyebrows had drawn together in a dark frown as he stared at Spock, seemingly unaware of McCoy.

"As chief medical officer, Doctor McCoy does not have to wait for permission to sedate me," Spock said awkwardly, for even though he must have meant it as a reminder for McCoy, he still looked at Kirk.

"By all gods. I'm right _here_! And I _know_ that," McCoy replied looking from Spock to Kirk to Spock to Kirk. "Jim?"

Kirk exhaled and deflated somewhat. "I know. I apologise," Kirk said looking at Spock, still ignoring McCoy.

"Apologizing to me is unnecessary, Captain," the Vulcan replied, more gently than before, but still not completely reconciled, or he would have called Kirk by his first name, as McCoy realized, "Especially considering that you did nothing that could have offended _me_, that is, of course, assuming that I could be offended."

"Right," Kirk seemed confused there for a second, something that McCoy could completely understand.

"Doctor McCoy, on the other hand, who now _really_ is our only chance to defeat this virus, does not deserve your illogical and misguided wrath. Especially when one is considering that since he has set foot on this planet, he has further suffered from a phaser shot wound, an infection ..."

"The phaser burn!" McCoy suddenly exclaimed, making the two other officers finally acknowledge his existence again, turning towards him which was a tremendous relief to the doctor. Although they had been talking _about_ him quite alot, they had curiously treated _him_ as if he were an invisible ghost.

"Bones?" Kirk was first to speak, as McCoy had already turned back to the small make-shift laboratory on Lena Tarses' kitchen table.

"That burn on my shoulder. It could be the factor that we were looking for," he explained curtly, already typing something into the tricorder.

"Different types of interleukines are emitted by the human helper CD4+ T lymphocytes when the immune system is subjected to a potential threat, as, for example, a burn," Spock provided for Kirk who looked as if he was in need of an explanation.

"As usual, Spock, I'm impressed by your medical knowledge," McCoy mumbled from behind the delicate composition of vials, test tubes and metal frames on the table, "However, not all interleukines are produced by your helper CD-thingies," he looked up smiling in triumph at both, Kirk and Spock who were waiting for him to continue. "Of course, that's why _I'm_ the physician and _you're_ the Vulcan, sorry _half_-Vulcan." He turned away again, his mind occupied by something more important than Spock's smart comments.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a look.

"You are certainly not using the medical jargon that one would expect of a physician, doctor," Spock commented. Kirk put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Leave him be, Spock. He's best not disturbed right now, or something's going to explode."

"I _hear_ you, Jim. I'm still here, you know? Have been all this time."

Kirk smirked at Lena who snorted at him in reaction. "Fortune favors fools, Captain," she said sharply.

"Oh?"

"How could you choose yourself with a serious head injury that had just started to heal, a sleep deprived half-Vulcan who was more prone to fall ill from this virus you expected my husband to possess than any human, and Doctor McCoy who was not only physically and mentally exhausted and therefore most unfit for such a mission - how could you choose these people to make up this landing party? Your ship probably has 400 people that were more fit for this mission than the three of you."

Kirk wasn't fazed by her criticism, but his smirk softened a bit. "Well, Mrs Tarses, all you've said is true. However, you're forgetting something."

She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of asking him what it was. She already knew anyway.

"Your secret weapon."

He smiled at her. "You got it."

"Captain, even though it seems Doctor McCoy might find a cure to this virus yet, ..." Spock started, but was interrupted by a sudden curse from the doctor.

"Bones?" Jim repeated his careful prompt from earlier.

McCoy looked up, "I … I think I really have it, Jim. The antibodies together with this particular interleukin act as a potent antiviral drug for this mutation of the Meriah virus. Give me an hour and we should have enough to cure this whole village. Another day, and we have enough for the whole planet."

"That sounds like good news?" Kirk asked cautiously.

"Yes, but … it will not work on Romulans, or Vulcans."

"I am, as you're so fond of pointing out, _half_-Vulcan, Doctor. Even though the interleukin should be rejected by a full Vulcan,_ I _will tolerate it."

"Not this particular type. You'd have to produce your own interleukin which means, theoretically, we'd have to subject you to a similar injury as I was, conicidentally, but luckily, as I my add, subjected to."

"Well, what's the problem?" Kirk asked, frowning, not sure what all this fuss was about.

"I am guessing that the doctor found out that at this point, my immune system is not capable of producing the required amount of interleukin due to its preoccupation with the virus," Spock explained.

"You are _guessing_, Spock?" McCoy repeated, "You _are_ sick. Well, the thing is, Jim, Spock's immune system was weak to begin with, now, it is fighting an infection in addition. At this point it simply cannot produce the interleukin that is needed."

"So, what you need is _Vulcan_ interleukin?"

"Vulcans don't produce interleukin, their immune system works totally differently. If they're injected with human interleukin, it would cause an immune reaction, similar to an anaphylactic shock. Half-Vulcans, like Spock, and I suspect also half-Romulans like Louis Tarses, will also reject this particular _human_ interleukin, however, their immune systems work differently than that of a pure Vulcan. They are able to produce interleukin their Vulcan, respective Romulan halves don't reject. So, if we'd be able to produce it, I believe we'd be able to create a drug against this virus, for Romulans, and Vulcans, too. With some modifications we could even be a able to create a drug against the original Meriah virus."

"So, all you need, is a healthy Vulcan-Human hybrid?" Kirk asked, thinking that all of this didn't sound too bad. There was a possibility to create a drug that was able to cure everyone from this terrible virus. Who knew how many people had already been infected on this planet, and on other planets, considering some thirty-some ships had left Fvillhail Three unhindered, including Tamulok.

"Sounds easy, doesn't it? But, Spock, how many other Vulcan-Human or Romulan-Human hybrids do you know?" McCoy addressed Spock who hadn't shown any kind of reaction so far.

"Spock?" Kirk's hand came down on his shoulder. He shook him, Spock only blinked. "Spock! Snap out of it!"

Spock shuddered visibly, "Captain, I believe it has started."

Kirk got to his knees to look Spock evenly into the eyes. "Spock, are you sensing Tamulok?"

McCoy felt his blood run cold, as he recognised the look in Spock's eyes. It was the look of the Meriah slaves in the Prolia prison complex.

"Jim, …," he cautioned, holding up the hypo he'd prepared before.

Kirk held up a hand, "Spock?"

"Captain, I feel ... like I'm drowning."

Kirk heard a sharp intake of breath from McCoy.

"Jim ..."

"Captain, please. You need to … sedate me."

Kirk nodded to McCoy, who pressed the hypo to Spock's neck. "'Til then, Spock."

As Spock sagged onto the bed, unconscious, Kirk stared back at McCoy. "Surely, Bones, Spock can't be the only half-Vulcan in the universe?"

"We need to contact the Vulcan Science Academy."


	9. Chapter 9

"I always knew Spock was quite unique, and to tell you the truth, I was very thankful for that. Can you imagine a universe with hundreds or even only dozens of Spocks?" McCoy addressed his head nurse, trying, desperately, to find something funny in the situation.

"It certainly wouldn't be the worst of all possible universes," she answered refusing to share her CO's amusement at his own lame joke. Spock was unconsious, still and pale, waiting patiently for the medical staff to help, to find a cure, or at least another human-Vulcan hybrid who would be the key to developing an antidote to that virus that had infected their half-Vulcan first officer.

"Aww, Christine, he's a Vulcan! He'll never reciprocate your feelings," McCoy grumbled, annoyed with her for not sharing a laugh, annoyed with himself for making that joke in the first place, and most of all, annoyed with this whole situation.

It all had sounded so easy, they only had to find a healthy Vulcan-human, or just some healthy Vulcan-human stem cells and he'd be able to create the antidote they needed to help Spock, and Louis Tarses who was occupying another bed in sickbay. Kirk had them all beamed aboard Enterprise, when the half-Romulan had managed to escape the quarantine area on Enterprise, and thus spread the virus all over the ship. It posed no threat to other humans, since McCoy had brewed up an effective vaccine against this new form of the Meriah virus, but the ship would have to undergo some serious decontamination before they could risk docking at a spacestation, or having someone of the crew beam planetside again. Also, Velal, the Romulan woman currently resident of the brig was in danger of becoming infected. He was worried about her. Even though their "affair" had been a biological necessity, and hadn't been born out of mutual feelings of love or affection for one another, he had difficulties in seperating the sexual encounter from an emotional attachment. He felt stupid for it, and embarrassed. Very briefly, he had considered talking about it with Jim, but then dismissed the thought immediately, remembering that Jim frequently had affairs with women whom he only used for his purposes. He'd probably laugh about him, call him an immature, emotional softy who couldn't keep his emotions in check.

"Who do you think you are, doctor?" Chapel suddenly yelled at him, and for a second McCoy cringed at her tone, "I know for a fact that Spock is compassionate, empathic, warm and loyal to a fault to all he considers to be his friends. _You_, of all people, should know the first thing about it. Why do you always insist on loathing him?"

"That's enough, Nurse," the doctor answered firmly, pulling himself together. He didn't _loathe_ Spock, everyone knew that.

She just snorted and then turned her back to leave for the storage room.

"Females," he mumbled to Spock's unconscious form when she was out of sight, "they're dangerous."

A loud clink came from the storage room, as if someone had dropped something.

McCoy was about to make a remark about female nosiness and the impoliteness of eavesdropping, when the comm sounded.

"Uhura to Dr. McCoy."

He was waiting for an important call from Vulcan.

"McCoy here."

"Sir, the Vulcan Science Academy has found a sample of stem cells from a human-Vulcan female, that was collected by a Denobulan doctor about 110 years ago, and has been stored at the Interspecies Medical Cryobank on Tiburon."

"A hundred and ten years? You mean, that's the best they can do?"

"They went through a lot of trouble to find even that, doctor. Apparently, there's no other human-Vulcan out there, at least none that is registered."

"How and when are we able to get it?"

"Captain Saluk and the P'Jem are on their way to rendezvous with us in 47 hours. They'll transport the sample to Enterprise, then."

"Captain Saluk and the P'Jem, eh? Well, … I'm looking forward to that," McCoy tried to recall the Vulcan captain. As far as he remembered, Saluk had been somewhat impressed by their, McCoy's and Spock's, discovery of Vor-Ka-Ri, a planet from Vulcan mythology that had turned out to be a Romulan farce.

"I hope the sample is still usable. A hundred and ten years seems an awful long time, even in cryostasis. What do they know about the donor?"

"I'll send the information I have to your computer, doctor. Anything else?"

McCoy watched the biosigns at the head of Spock's bed. Nothing to be worried about, but he still felt uneasy.

"Is the captain there?"

"No, he's still in the brig with Velal."

He perked up at that. What was Jim doing there? He had told him that they were all potential carriers of this virus, and Velal was currently very much in danger of becoming the next one to be infected.

"Do you want me to inform you when he's back?"

"Yes, thank you, Uhura. I'll be here," he said, trying to sound as casual as he could.

"Alright. Uhura out."

As McCoy turned away from the intercom, he saw Christine trying to sneak by him with a medkit and a bulk of other supplies under her arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"A minor emergency," she mumbled, already rushing past him.

He caught her by the shoulder.

"Minor? Then why are you carrying half of sickbay with you?" He caught a glimpse of the bag she had clutched in front of her. A gynecological kit.

"I want to be prepared," she said evenly.

"For what? Delivery of septuplets? What kind of emergency is this?"

"Ensign Roma is experiencing some nausea. She thinks she might be pregnant. As I said, I want to be prepared." With that Christine pulled away from him and was out of sickbay a second later, leaving McCoy to stay behind somewhat puzzled.

In case of minor gynecological problems like menstrual cramps and such, he usually let his nurse tend to the patients, since the young women felt more at ease with her, so this was nothing new. Still, something bothered him. Who was this Ensign _Roma_ anyway? Must be somebody new. He made a note to look her up, but first he had to look at the data Uhura had sent to his computer.


	10. Chapter 10

Christine came back about an hour or two later when McCoy was still bent over the information about the sample they were going to receive from the P'Jem.

"All work out well?" he asked, as she was hurriedly passing him. He meant it as a small peace-offering, remembering their little clash from earlier. He valued his head nurse for her professionalism as well as her fearlessness to defy him from time to time. It was a character trait not many nurses he'd worked with shared, but one he'd come to appreciate.

"Uh, yes," she said, halting in her step, then putting down her equipment to just stand there, a strange look on her face.

"And? Is Ensign Roma pregnant?" he asked, looking at his nurse who seemed … insecure for some reason.

"Yes, she is," she answered, quietly.

McCoy had seen it before. Many female ensigns tended not to jump for joy at the news of having to disrupt their career for at least a year or so, their pregnancies were mostly unplanned. Starfleet and family life did not go well together, even though there were some exceptions. However, almost all of the young women he'd seen in his career, had finally learnt to embrace the thought of being a mother. It was one of the last true wonders of nature, McCoy believed, and should be seen that way.

"That's _good_ news, Christine, even though it'll mean Ensign Roma is going to have to put her career on hiatus for a while. We're all returning home in three weeks anyway."

"That's right," she replied, reaching for the bag she'd discarded on the floor again, never taking her eyes off him.

"She should make an appointment, so we can check her over," he continued, "I don't remember her. When did she come aboard?"

"She came while I was on leave," Christine said, letting go of the bag.

"Hm, don't remember her at all. Guess I'm getting old. Well, Chris, … what's _wrong_?" McCoy couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he knew his nurse was not happy.

"I … just tired, doctor. I'll check our schedule and make an appointment for her as soon as possible."

"She does want to keep the baby, doesn't she?"

"Yes."

"The father is part of our crew?"

"He is."

"And … he is not thrilled about the prospect of becoming a father?"

Christine smiled sadly at that, "He doesn't know."

"And she doesn't want to tell him?"

There was a pause, then she finally picked up the bag from the floor. "Doctor, it's none of our business, really."

McCoy got up from his seat to help her carry the bulky equipment.

"He has a right to know, don't you think? It's his child as well."

"Right. But it's not our decision to make."

"Well, no. But we can push her a little into the right direction. Unless, …," he paused, stopping Christine on their way to the storage room.

"She wasn't raped, was she?"

"No!" Chapel said firmly, "She just doesn't want to tell him. It's not right, it's a selfish and cruel thing to do, but there's nothing I can do about it."

McCoy eyed her curiously. This was really getting to her for some reason. She was becoming too involved in her patients' lives. It was a mistake many of his colleagues made, including himself on occasion. Of course, it didn't help that most of his patients were his friends. Actually, who was he kidding? They were his family, and the only one he had. It was an unhealthy situation.

"Have you decided on a field of study?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"What?" she said distractedly, as they stowed away the equipment.

"For your career as a doctor."

"Oh. Uhm, no. Actually, I'm kind of reevaluating that idea again."

McCoy frowned. He would find out what was bothering her, sooner or later. "Miss Chapel. Three weeks from now, we'll see the end of our five year mission, and each of us is going to get a new assignment. I already dread the person who will replace you as my head nurse. She, or he, will be a pain to break in, I'm absolutely sure of that. I'm also already jealous of the doctor who will end up working with _you, _and I'm sure she or he is going to be a complete_ moron_ unable to appreciate your skills. So, do us _all_ a favor, and change your profession. You'll be a better doctor than any of those starfleet, military, doctor wannabes."

She smiled at that, but it was a pained smile. They were interrupted by the intercom before he could prod further, much to Chapel's relief.

"Uhura to Dr. McCoy."

He turned abruptly, reaching for the comm button.

"Uhura, is the captain on the bridge again?" There was something he needed to discuss concerning the cell sample they were expecting.

"Yes, he is."

"I'll be right up," McCoy knew that if he had something to tell the captain, it was best to find him on the bridge, where he couldn't escape.

"I've got something to discuss with the captain, about that sample," he said, looking at Chapel apologetically, "using it might make things worse than they already are."

She just nodded.

"I mean, Spock isn't in any _immediate_ danger, but it could well be that it'll take a lot longer to find an antidote than we originally thought."

"I'm sure there's a way," she replied, and again, McCoy frowned. She _was_ acting strangely. Normally he knew exactly what she was thinking, but today …

"Right," he pointed towards his office, "I'll have some more research to do, but we'd better not use that sample. ... Okay, keep an eye on Spock!" And with that he left.

Chapel waited for another ten seconds after the doors had closed, and then entered the CMO's office, producing a disc from up her sleeve.


	11. Chapter 11

**This is the end of an evil Romulan!**

**I'm in the flow :-) Thanks to all loyal readers and reviewers,_ mtcbones_ that means you! **

o0o

It had been ages since he'd last been on the bridge. He'd sat in the captain's chair then, trying not to throw up from the horrific and swirling images in his head, while Jim had shielded him from the view of Delihan and Commander Tamulok, throwing insults at them, and threatening to start an interplanetary war. In the end he had vomited anyway, just before he'd fainted. Definetely _not_ one of his best moments.

Now, the situation was different. Delihan was dead and Tamulok had disappeared. _Kirk_ was sitting in the captain's chair, and _Spock_ was the one the bridge crew was worrying about. When was the last time everything had been normal? He couldn't remember.

"Bones!" he was greeted by a slightly smiling Kirk.

"Hello Jim," he greeted back, and acknowledged Chekov, Sulu and Uhura who briefly turned to nod at him with a small smile.

"How's Spock?"

"It's why I came here. He's stable for now, but it seems I can't use those stem cells we're going to recieve from the P'Jem to produce the vaccine."

Kirk glanced at some readings on the arm of his chair before returning his attention to his CMO. "Why not?"

"Well, the donor was a half-Vulcan, half-human binary clone who died as an infant from a genetic deficiency. I'll have to do some more research when we get the sample, but it hardly is an ideal ..."

"Captain!" Chekov who was sitting at Spock's station interrupted him.

"Mr Chekov?" Kirk turned his chair to him.

"We are approaching the nebula. For the next 15 minutes, the radiation will disturb our sensors."

"Thanks for the warning, Mr Chekov. We don't expect it to be a problem, or do we?" Kirk smiled at the young navigator who was sitting in Spock's chair somewhat uncomfortably. He'd suggested to circumvent the nebula at first, but the captain had insisted they needed to meet the P'Jem as soon as possible. So now, they were going to go straight through it, not the best idea the captain had ever had, Chekov thought, but he hadn't protested any further. For all he knew, Spock's life depended on it, even though the doctor did not seem to be too concerned about him. At least time didn't seem to be as essential as the captain had made him believe.

"No, captain. The nebula was explored and cartographed by the Intrepid only 61 days ago. No disturbances showed up. However, our sensors won't be able to pick up any obstacles, other ships, or ..."

"You've still got _eyes_, don't you?" Kirk cut him off.

"Aye, sir," Chekov just said, thinking, however, that Sulu who was piloting the ship needed good eyes more than he did right now. What if an enemy ship was hiding in the nebula? More Romulans? Or Orions?

"Jim, you think it's a good …," McCoy started, but couldn't finish when suddenly a jolt went through the ship and the engines failed.

_Not again! _McCoy thought, and by the groans coming from his fellow officers he judged they all thought the same.

"Bridge to engineering," Kirk said cheerily into the comm in the armrest of his chair.

"I don't know, sir," Scotty replied exasperatedly, already having anticipated his captain's call, "We seem to have a power failure. _Partial_. This time. I don't know why, I wish ..."

"Okay, Scotty, don't fret. It happens to the best. Do we still have our weapons?"

"Och, uh. Aye. Weapons, shields, just the damn engines have gone."

"Right. Now, Scotty. You need to fix the engines so we can get out of here. So disable all systems except the instruments on the bridge, lifesupport, and weapons."

"Sir?"

"Safety procedures. Or do you want to crawl in the bowels of the ship with all systems running?"

"Well, we've done it a million times before, captain. We've just got to be careful."

"Mr Scott," Kirk returned sharply, "we'll do this by the book, understood? I'm not risking the lives of my engineering staff when it is not completely necessary to do so. So, disable all systems, but the weapons, lifesupport and bridge instruments."

"Aye, sir. I will disable the shields then?" Mr Scott asked, unsure if he'd understood correctly.

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before the lights dimmed and it became unusually quiet. McCoy was unsure if it was because everyone seemed to hold his breath or because of most of the running systems, including the shields, had been disabled at Kirk's command.

"Captain," Chekov said, "someone opened the hangar doors."

"Oh?" was Kirk's reply.

"Sir, shuttlecraft Copernicus is leaving the hangar," Sulu reported from his position at the helm.

"The Copernicus you say?" Kirk said, not sounding surprised at all, "Lieutenant Uhura, hail her."

"Ship to ship communication has been disabled, captain."

"Hmm."

"Wait, I may be able to …," she pressed a few buttons and was able to bypass, "You may speak now, sir."

Kirk raised surprised eyebrows, then smiled at her appreciatively. "Uh, Copernicus, this is Captain Kirk. You have no permission to leave the ship."

There was a moment of silence before a reply came:

"Enterprise, this is Velal of the Romulan Tal Shiar. I thank you for the ride so far, but I've decided to leave before it's getting too uncomfortable for me."

McCoy drew in a sharp breath. Was Velal responsible for the power failure? He was impressed. Part of him wanted her to escape, being a captive of Starfleet's secret service for the rest of one's life couldn't be fun.

"Velal! I … order you to return," Kirk shouted, earning himself a confused look from his CMO. _Very creative, Jim_.

"Order all you want, captain. I've sabotaged your ship, you can't do anything to stop me," she said.

Well, that wasn't true, McCoy realized with worry, they could still shoot at her. And Jim probably would, he wouldn't risk her escaping, or would he?

"Velal!" McCoy addressed her, not really knowing why he wanted to speak to her, or what he should say, "Uh ..., Tamulok may be out there. You must be careful."

There was a pause before Velal answered: "Goodbye. I'll keep you in good memory. … Velal out."

Then the line was cut off.

"Lieutenant?" Kirk turned towards Uhura with questioning eyes.

"Uhm, I'm not sure I can do anything, captain."

"Sir, there's a small vessel 5 km away, on three o' clock," Sulu informed them excitedly.

Kirk slid to the edge of his seat. "I see it, Mr Sulu. Could it be one of those vessels that left the surface of Fvillhail Three?"

"Could be, sir. Though we can't be sure without the senors," Chekov provided, beginning to suspect that Kirk had insisted on passing through the nebula for other reasons than wanting to take a shortcut.

"Uhura?"

"Sir, I … Wait, I'm getting something, ..."

She frantically pressed some buttons and after some static they could hear the voice of Commander Tamulok: "._.. thought it possible you'd betray your own people, Velal._"

"_You're the traitor, Tamulok. And the Tal Shiar wants you dead."_

"_YOU DARE CALL ME A TRAITOR? I didn't commit ADULTERY with a human NAKED MOLE RAT!" _

McCoy felt his hand grip the armrest of Kirk's chair.

"Mr Sulu, aim photon torpedoes on Tamulok's ship!" Kirk hissed, dangerously quiet.

"I can't get a lock, because of the radiation," Sulu said, while his hands still flew over the console.

Kirk was up from his chair, striding over to him. "Aim manually!"

"Aye, sir," Sulu said with a mixture between a frown and a smile on his face. Firing photon torpedoes from the hip was something he'd never done before.

"_He's got more backbone than you ever had, Tamulok."_

Kirk checked Sulu's aim from over his shoulder.

"_You enjoyed it? Well, I'll ..."_

"Fire!" Kirk shouted to shut the Romulan up once and for all.

And Tamulok never did finish his sentence.

They all heard the sound of a torpedo being fired from Enterprise, and a millisecond later, an explosion was seen on the screen, right where Tamulok's ship had been.

There was silence on the bridge. It was a success for Starfleet, yes, but it had happened so … unexpectedly.

"Uhura, the Copernicus?" Kirk was the first to speak, as he slowly returned to his seat.

"I think she's able to hear you," she answered.

"Captain Kirk to Copernicus, Tamulok's ship has been destroyed. Return to Enterprise immediately."

Silence.

Kirk felt McCoy shift nervously beside him, and spared him glance. Intent blue eyes wanted him to understand a message, but he averted his gaze quickly.

"Kirk to Velal," he said again, a bit louder, "if you don't return our shuttlecraft we're forced to destroy it."

"This is Velal. Congratulations, captain. In the name of the Romulan Tal Shiar, I thank you for eliminating a dangerous enemy to both our empires."

"Now return to Enterprise," Kirk repeated.

"Captain," Velal said slowly, in a lecturing tone, "You don't seriously believe I will return to your ship to be handed over to the Federation and spend the rest of my life in prison?"

"I do. Or you _will_ be destroyed," Kirk answered.

"Listen to him, Velal, he means it!" McCoy shouted and earned himself an annoyed stare from his captain.

"We'll see each other around," the Romulan said over the comm and they could see the shuttle engines being powered up.

"What about those engines, Scotty?" Kirk called his engineeer.

"Sorry, captain. But doing it "by the book" means taking more time. Another two or three hours, maybe?"

"Jim, you can't …," McCoy's voice implored from beside him.

"She's preparing to go to warp, captain," Sulu interrupted, knowing the signs.

"Sulu," Kirk was up from his chair once more, "aim phasers on engines."

Sulu had dreaded the order. It was tricky to disable a ship's engine without causing further damgage with working sensors, but doing so manually was a totally different matter.

"I'll do my best," he replied.

"Fire!"

He pressed the button, and at the same moment Enterprise's phasers shot out from under them aiming towards the Copernicus. A lightning, followed by a massive explosion, one that was much bigger than the one that had destroyed Tamulok's ship, was seen, and the bridgepersonnel had to shield their eyes in order not to be blinded by the harsh light. It took them several long seconds to be able to see again, seconds in which nobody said a word.

Sulu was the first to speak, to report what everyone already knew:

"Shuttlecraft Copernicus has been destroyed."


	12. Chapter 12

Kirk sighed. "I'll be in sickbay," he mumbled in Uhura's direction, got up from his chair, and briefly touched Bones' elbow, before he left for the turbolift. McCoy followed, slowly.

When the doors had closed, Kirk turned towards his CMO, a troubled expression on his face.

"Bones, ..."

"Jim!" McCoy interrupted, "I don't know if you heard me correctly, but we're going to need another sample!"

Kirk frowned. McCoy was in his element, in full blown doctor's mode. He tended to distract himself by burrying himself in his work. He actually functioned best under stress.

"I heard you Bones. But, about Velal, …," he tried again.

"Jim! I won't use stem cells of a genetically deficient binary cloned girl who's been dead for 110 years! For all we know, it could be Spock's death. I refuse to believe there are no other living half- Vulcans out there!"

Kirk bit his lower lip. Bones was fully concentrated on finding a vaccine to that virus right now, and he probably should not distract him now. He'd learn soon enough.

"Did Spock never donate stem cells himself?" he asked, having made a decision.

They stepped out of the turbolift.

"No. An oversight, I must admit. Especially considering just _how _rare they are."

"Don't worry, Bones. I'm sure you'll find something," Kirk said, greeting Nurse Chapel with a polite nod as they entered sickbay.

She stood at the entrance, as if she'd been expecting them, holding a container.

"Nurse?" McCoy prompted.

She glanced at Kirk, before she spoke: "Doctor, I've found a sample of human-Romulan stem cells in our own cryobank. It was deposited there by Doctor Piper six years ago." With that she handed him the container.

McCoy frowned. "I checked the databanks myself. Nothing was there."

"Yes, it was listed under a wrong entry," she paused, "embryonic stem cells."

"Embryonic?" he reached out to take the container, studying it. Why had it been listed under a wrong entry? He'd heard his predessor, Dr. Piper, had been a thorough, and very professional stickler for order in his sickbay. And how had Chapel found the sample?

"Can you use that?" Kirk asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Uh, I'll have to check the sample. How did Piper get it his hands on it?"

"The Doxia four incident?" Kirk asked, and Chapel nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"Yes. There was a pregnant woman among the survivors. Dr Piper couldn't save her, or the baby. I remembered, and looked for the sample specifically."

McCoy shrugged. "Well, I've got work to do," he started for his laboratory, when Kirk held him back by the shoulder.

"What?"

"Bones, when you're finished with this, ..."

"I'll let you now when Spock's awake."

"No. I mean, of course. But I need to talk to you. At 1900 hours in my quarters?"

McCoy just shrugged, already turning away. "Sure."

o0o

At exactly 1900 hours the door chime to Kirk's quarters sounded. He hadn't looked forward to this, he had to admit. And yet, he felt it was happening too late.

"Come."

As the door opened, it revealed McCoy standing in the hallway, at attention. Kirk's heart sank.

"Hello Bones," he greeted, reaching out to pull him into his quarters by his arm. Normally, Bones didn't need an invitation to come in, or make himself comfortable in his quarters, but now, he just stood there stiffly, in the middle of the room, not blinking an eye.

"Please, sit down!"

"I'd rather stand, captain," McCoy said, looking Kirk into the face coldly.

_Shit._

Kirk opted to stand also. "How's Spock?" he started, already knowing the answer. Chapel had informed him that the vaccine had worked, and Spock had woken up an hour ago, showing no signs of problems. Kirk hadn't moved then. He needed to talk to Bones alone, before he explained everything to Spock who would be demanding a report. He wondered how much Bones had filled him in, how much Bones actually knew.

"Resting. He'll be fit for duty by tomorrow. 'Til then he should be kept under observation in sickbay, captain."

Kirk sighed. The rank he was so proud of always stung when it was used by his friend Bones to address him.

"Louis Tarses?"

"Physically alright as well, psychologically it's a different matter. He's confused, doesn't know where he is, hasn't been himself for years now."

"We should be back at Fvillhail Three in a few hours. I'm sure Lena Tarses will be very grateful."

"You made her a widow."

"Grateful to you," Kirk clarified.

"Is that all?"

"Bones. I'm sorry. Please, I really am."

McCoy's eyes flashed with anger. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was one of Velal's conditions. She knew Tamulok was still near and following us, wanting to take revenge on her. But she said, she would not help us catch Tamulok, if I told you that ..."

"She was pregnant with my son?"

There was a pause. "Son?" Kirk whispered, realizing how much this was hurting his friend.

"What? I'm a doctor. Didn't you think I'd thouroughly check the sample that so miraculously turned up in my sickbay? Do you think I'm totally stupid? I only had to count 2 and 2 together. I really did not need to check the DNA before I knew that half of it was identical to mine. Chapel broke into tears, telling me she'd had strict orders from you not to tell me anything."

"Velal insisted, Bones. We needed to catch Tamulok. And I _could _understand her. It would have unnecessarily hurt you ..."

"_Hurt_ me? Do you honestly think that _this_ is any better? Knowing that Velal and my son were killed by y..," he stopped himself in time.

Kirk released a breath.

"Velal's not dead, Bones," he said, sitting down and hoping Bones would follow his example.

He didn't. "She isn't? But the shuttle, we all saw it explode!"

"We all saw an explosion," Kirk reminded him, "an unsually big and bright explosion. It was a trick, Bones. A plan to enable her to escape, without Starfleet Intelligence wanting to search the whole galaxy for her afterwards. Our sensors weren't working in the nebula, so we only had to create a visual distraction long enough for her to go to warp and escape."

"And you couldn't have told me _that_ either? You let me think she was dead, and later ..."

"I wanted to, Bones, in the turbolift. But you wouldn't let me."

McCoy's shoulders sagged a little, he still didn't make any efforts to sit down, though. "The baby is alright?"

"Yes. Velal extracted the sample herself. Tough woman, she is, Bones. Chapel assissted her, and was totally in disagreement with all of this, but she confirmed the embryo wasn't harmed by the procedure."

McCoy just stood there, staring into the direction of Kirk's shelves that were cluttered with memorabilia.

"Neither the equipment nor Nurse Chapel's expertise are enough to be sure. Even you must know that."

"Velal was sure, Bones. And she served as a doctor on a Vulcan ship. She does not want to harm the baby any more than you do."

"And you thought it okay for her to disappear like that without telling me? Where is she going? Back to Romulus? Will I meet my son in battle one day, a young Romulan legionnaire sitting at the helm of a Romulan Warbird, or on a planet near the neutral zone, holding a disruptor in my face?"

Kirk had also thought about that. What would happen to Velal's child when she went back to Romulus? Would he grow up, learning to think of his father and the rest of the human race as enemies? He doubted it. Velal had collaborated with them. And she'd definitely felt _something_ for Bones. However, the Romulan society would not share this sympathy. He was sure the boy would not have an easy life growing up as a half-breed on Romulus. But maybe he and his mother would be able to change their way of thinking just a _bit_. Who knew?

"Would you rather he grew up in a Starfleet prison camp?" Kirk said defensively.

It was the wrong thing to say.

McCoy kicked at the chair he'd refused to acknowledge all this time, and it almost toppled over.

"I'd rather he grew up knowing his father was not a dirty naked mole rat, an enemy, a rapist."

"Bones ..." Kirk was up, startled by McCoy's violent outbreak against his furniture, holding out the palms of his hands, "Velal would not ..."

"No? How do _you_ know? Won't she think it's best for him, just like she thought it was best for _me_ to not know about his existence at all? Growing up half-human in a Romulan society, how do you think that is? I know _Spock_ didn't have an easy childhood, still has problems with his two halves, and _he's_ got _two_ parents who watched out for him. _He_ grew up on Vulcan with people who believe in _IDIC_. On Romulus, they'll resent hybrids, especially half-humans."

"Velal's a Tal Shiar agent. She's in a high position, and she'll be able to protect her child."

"You don't understand, do you? He's not only _her_ child. What a greedy thing to do from her," McCoy whispered to something on Kirk's shelf, "he'll have her ears, but my eyes."

Kirk groaned. "God, Bones. You're only hurting yourself with ..."

"I don't know _why_ I'm telling you this," McCoy turned towards him, speaking very quietly, now. "You'll _never_ understand. You're happy with the fact that your own son is growing up without knowing you even exist. That way there's no trouble for you, nothing to get in the way of your career."

McCoy couldn't have hurt him worse had he rammed a red hot poker into his right eye. He blanched, shocked and hurt by McCoy's words. Bones had _meant_ _to_ _hurt_ him, but didn't really mean what he'd said, a logical voice at the back of his head told him, but it didn't stop him from getting up from his chair in a rush, launching himself towards his CMO furiously, hollering: "That's enough! You have no right t..."

The door chime sounded innocently, stopping him, bringing him back to reality. McCoy was still standing at the spot he had been standing on since he'd entered. Kirk had to give him credit for it. Fearless as ever, and fuming himself. He looked about ready to take a swing at him.

Kirk took a step back, clenching his fists. Had he really been ready to punch _Bones_ in the face?

"Come," he said, and they both turned to see who it was.

"Good evening, captain, doctor," Spock said, politely standing at the door.

"Spock! What part of "Stay in sickbay for observation" didn't you understand?" McCoy addressed the Vulcan.

"I understood, doctor. However, I decided to disregard your advice in order to come here. Judging from the noise I've just heard through the closed door, I believe it was ... a good idea."

They both stared at Spock for a moment. Then made room for him to enter.

When the door had closed, Spock briefly took in the chair, standing at an odd angle in the middle of the room, and straightened it out immediately.

"Spock! Now you know how I feel, when the two of you are at it," Kirk said, smiling slighty, winking at McCoy.

"_Feel_, captain?" Spock returned.

"You know what I mean. … You alright?"

"A bit nauseous, as always when the doctor's potions are involved."

The comment was meant to make McCoy react, but wasn't successful.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a look.

"Mr Spock, how much do you know about … our current situation?" Kirk ventured. Spock was smart, he'd probably figured out the whole scenario already, which would be the reason why he was here now. That Vulcan was more empathic than he let on.

"Ms Chapel filled me in. I understand you managed to eliminate Commander Tamulok with the help of Velal who is on her way to Meriah Five in our shuttlecraft."

McCoy turned to Spock abruptly. "What? Why Meriah?"

"I believe to eliminate this virus once and for all," Spock replied.

At McCoy's questioning look, Kirk nodded.

"Chapel pulled the formula for the vaccine from your computer while you were on your way to the bridge. She gave it to Velal and showed her off to the shuttlebay."

"A well-thought-out plan, captain," Spock complimented, "although this virus has proved to be not only a cruel, inhumane instrument to oppress the largest part of the Meriahni people, but also a dangerous threat towards the Romulan and the Vulcan governments, the Federation would never have approved of a mission to annihiliate it."

"The Prime Directive, Spock. It's a principle that's become unhandy on several occasions," Kirk nodded.

"But it's still the core principle of the Federation. The Romulan Empire, however, does not honour the Prime Directive, nor does the Tal Shiar."

"Thank god."

"A deity has nothing to do with that, captain. The Romulans are a ruthless race, only concerned for … "

"Spock!" McCoy interrupted him, "Did you mean to say, Velal is out there, trying to smuggle the vaccine to Meriah to completely eradicate that virus?"

"Yes, doctor. She has your formula and everything she needs to create enough serum to produce a vaccine. She can easily place it in the water, the air, or some other element that is consumed by everyone on the planet."

"Everything she needs," McCoy snorted, "You mean, including a half-Romulan, half-Human embryo."

"It is the key element to ensure success, yes, doctor. It also helped me, and Louis Tarses."

"He's _not_ an _it_! And not a key-element to anything," McCoy shouted at the Vulcan, but it was Kirk he was mad at, as he suddenly remembered.

He'd almost had Kirk so far that he would have hit him in the face. And McCoy would have hit back, with pleasure. In the end he would have ended up looking worse than Kirk, he was sure, but it would have been worth the pain.

"Bones, I know you're mad at me …," Kirk started.

"Forget it," McCoy spit out, "It's not your fault. You don't understand."

"Do you really think that of me?"

McCoy felt his anger recede, just a notch. But the truth was, to find out he would have another child, another that he had no chance of ever seeing grow up, one that would never even be able to talk to him, one that would probably believe that he was an evil person, an enemy, had hurt him so deeply that he had wanted to scream, smash something, hit his own head against a wall. His life seemed to be a total failure to him, and it was easier to blame someone else than to admit it was his own fault.

"Didn't you leave David with Carol? Promised her to not interfere? And you were happy to do so," he said, knowing it was unfair, knowing he was hurting his friend, and knowing he would once again hate himself for it later.

Kirk had himself under control this time, as he answered: "Yes, yes, and _no_. And you _know_ that."

"It's what you _said_."

"What do you mean?" Kirk raised his voice again.

Spock stepped in the way. "Doctor, didn't _you_ choose to leave your daughter behind on earth, to stay out of _her_ life, and retreat, as far away from her as possible, into space?"

Kirk looked at Spock in shock. Damn his arrogant logic.

Bones stood still, staring at them. Then, without a word, he turned around, leaving.

"Bones!" Kirk shouted after him, but it was too late. Some crewmen were rounding the corner and already started gaping at them. Kirk pushed Spock inside his quarters again, and let the doors close.

"That was a _great_ help, Spock!" Kirk turned to his first officer in anger.

"I'm afraid, it wasn't," Spock inclined his head, "I'm not … very well trained in these affairs. They're more … the doctor's field."

Kirk sagged against the wall. There seemed to have been taken a chink out of his "secret weapon" he'd told Lena Tarses about down on the planet,

ooo0End

A/N: Alright, this is a sad ending. The triumvirate stands divided, Bones is sulking, and poor Sulu thinks he sucks at marksmanship. :-( . This turned out a bit darker than I had planned it, I admit.

There's still one deadly sin left, and that's WRATH, so there's still the chance of a "happy ending", even though it won't be _that_ happy, for we know that after the five year mission both, McCoy and Spock, will (temporarily) leave Starfleet and Jim, and we also know Bones doesn't have a son with pointy ears, don't we?

Anyway, thanks for reading this far, and I hope you have as much fun reading these stories as I've had writing them. (It doesn't hurt to let me know in a review, by the way ;-) )


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